Bittersweet
by Monisse
Summary: Like a magnet, she lured him. He walked towards her, and tempted their individual personal spaces to collide and become one.


**Title: **Bittersweet (previously known as Heart, Body and Cream)  
**Pairing:** Booth/Brennan  
**Words:** 2.761  
**Rating: **T  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters. This story was made as a birthday present for Seeleybaby. (Andreia, if you're reading this, I swear I wasn't thinking of Mr. Vallo for the purpose of the title!! :D )

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The hallways were dark and somber in a brutal contrast against the vivacity that flooded them at expedient hours. The walls witnessed her rapid passage towards the anthropology wing. She hurried ahead, her legs moved at their own pace as her heels clicked in the dark marble, creating soft noises that broke the silent atmosphere around her.

"Bones, wait up." He called from the distance.

Her head turned slightly to the side, and she threw a brilliant blue look above her shoulder in his direction. A devious smile played on her lips, but nevertheless, her legs never stopped moving, already knowing her destination.

He watched her turn the corner and hurried after her, his breath, already ragged, fell from his lungs. His eyes traveled along the silk fabric of her skirt as it disappeared at the corner. An absent feeling abruptly invaded his senses, only to be washed away when he rounded the same corner and she appeared into view once more.  
Her preference for skirts had came apparent lately, he noticed that they seemed to escalate in bright hues as summer approached.

He had become an eager spectator as her legs became bare to his eyes every day, and by doing so, noticing the progressive tan that kissed her previous snow white legs. Today had been no different, she had picked a bright blue skirt that seemed to match the hue of her eyes, and teased his wild dreams as she walked in front of him, in a hurry to reach her office in the middle of the night.

"Come on, Booth, or we'll get caught." She said while laughing, a low melodious play of her vocal chords that called for him like a siren, and as a condemned man, he followed. Walking away was not an option.

As she looked behind in his direction once more, he felt a nervous sensation pooling in his stomach, triggered by that same previous smile.

He found her fumbling with the keys of her office and couldn't stop his body from colliding with hers, still moved by the hurry to follow her steps.

Her hand wasn't fast enough at turning the door knob and she felt her body being pressed against the cold glass door by his massive structure. She turned around, her back against the door, and in the fraction of a second, where their bodies were pinned together, she felt the delicious sensation that came when in direct contact with him, invade her veins and boiling her blood to burst in her cheeks in a soft crimson color.

He felt the heat that irradiated from her, the soft rise and fall of her chest and the warm puffs of air caressing his face. The corners of his lips twitched in an involuntary boyish grin. He felt in control again, at least the minimum he could muster when every curve of her body was pressed against him. It was thrilling, and slightly unnerving, but not unpleasant, the way her tall, but thin frame molded itself unconsciously into his large and hard torso.

And in that same moment, propelled by the reaction from the man facing her, she couldn't hold back a primitive urge to thrust towards him, closing the gap between their lips in such a pace that made her feel that time was irrationally slowing down. Their lips were barely apart and only their overheated breaths filled the infinitesimal gap, when she stopped abruptly and waited.

The Adam's apple bounced up and down on his throat; the anxiety caught up with him again, and covered the palm of his hands with cold sweat. They were close, a little too close for his comfort, for it was not the first time that he found himself struggling with his most basic instincts towards her, the exacerbated need to have her.  
He heard himself cough, trying desperately to disentangle his gaze from hers, and catch his voice.

"It's late, and we shouldn't be here at all."

She smiled once more, watching his eyes travelling around her face, never again staring directly into her own.

"And yet, we're both here, aren't we?" She asked after a while, her lips moved dangerously close to his. Her hand turned the door knob, and suddenly, they walked backwards into her office.

They caught balance before falling disastrously to the floor, while genuine laughter bubbled from their mouths, and eradicated the previous tension.

"You didn't quite leave me a choice…" He said, walking further into her office, while watching her lit a small desk lamp that casted a warm glow in the room and enveloped them in a comforting blanket.

She turned in her heels to face him. He was standing in the middle of the room, and even though the light casted soft shadows on his face, she noticed how his brown eyes reflected the light and seemed to glow in the near dark. His hands were hidden in the pockets of his suit pants, a general act of his confidence, if it were not for his wandering gaze around the room and the nervous biting of his lower lip.

The red color of his belt buckle came into view, and immediately, a sensation of ownership possessed her. She had given him that item, at the time the intention was to mean only retribution, a token of appraisal for the loss of an object he liked so much, but now, seeing it neatly placed between the dark material of his pants and the white smooth of his shirt, she read between the lines. It worked as a brand of ownership, and she was the proud unrecognized proprietor.

"I know you're going to like this, Booth. I've done it countless times before." She offered him in the softest tone she could assemble.

"You did?" His eyes widened and his face transformed into a shocked expression.

"Don't worry. You're safe with me." The soft nervous smile playing in his lips prompted her mischievous grin. One side of her wanted to calm his worries, and tell him that there was nothing to fear at such a banal act, that his nervousness was irrational, but the other side, the one that enjoyed the blush that had crept to his face since they entered her office, wanted to prolong the torture for a while longer.

She stood right in front of him once more. Her hand came up to smooth his bright red tie. At first, his involuntary response was to back away, he was used to be the one taking the first step to reach for her, to touch her, and now she was the one voluntarily invading his personal space and caressing him. He flinched slightly, but once her hand started to move down his chest, all his will to run away from the sensual ambience that was capturing them, dissolved into her light touch.

Her fingertips ran over the length of the soft fabric, all the while feeling the hard muscles of his torso tighten under her delicate touch. The reaction that erupted in him, ragged breathing and wide pupils, fueled her next movements. With an incontrollable desire to seduce, her cheek rubbed against the soft stubble in his face and her lips inched close to his ear.

"Just relax, or you'll ruin the whole experience." She whispered there. Her voice so soft and quiet that he only felt the air that left her rosy lips form the words that encountered his ear, and set on fire his already damaged control.

And, as sudden as she had leaned forward towards him, she retreated without another word, leaving him with the absence of her body's warmth.

"Bones, shouldn't we be doing this in some place more…" He waved his hand back and forth in an attempt to search for a word to describe their inappropriate place.

"What?" She asked after a while, a little too unkind, already frustrated by his actions and his impatience. There was a time, when she would find it endearing, when she would tease him about his prude actions, earning a slight blush or a coughing from him, culminating with an amused smile from her part. Tonight, she felt quite the contrary. There was an edginess in the ambience around that made her intolerant to his oppressive ways. Tonight, all that she wanted was to sever all ties to her rationality and invite him inside her world, even though he wasn't cooperative, like she expected him to.

"Private?" He hopefully asked. She had insisted in returning to her office, once their meal had ended. The way she requested had left barely any margin to give an excuse, not that he would muster one good enough, or that he would even want to. Like so many previous requests, her eyes had captured his, and tore through the walls of his being, undressing him of all the shame and regret he would have felt otherwise. He might as well swallow his pride, and return to the lab with her at ungodly hours of the night, where he was sure they would be the only souls wandering those halls, except from security.

"Booth," She sighed, his name passing her lips like a murmur. "You're being a prude. This is the ideal place to perform it. The ambiance is right and we're accustomed to the room." Her eyes wandered around the poorly lighted office, swiping across the neat stacks of paper in her desk, books and artifacts overflowing from the shelves. She would always find comfort in this place.

Once more, the clicking of her heels came in his direction. "Try to be open to the experience, let go of your unfounded fears and you'll see that it will be much more pleasurable in the end." She said while walking around him, her hands brushed over his shoulders and finally wrapped around the fabric of his jacket. A small pull and the piece of garment slid over his body effortlessly as she whispered in his ear. "Trust me."

And he did. Whatever she had stored for them that night he had already made a silent commitment to stay with her, albeit how out of his trusted environment he was, where he knew what cards to play and win, or how nervous she made him feel when her plans felt impervious to his trained intuition.

Leaving his jacket on the couch, she discarded her own and placed it nearby his. Her shoulders appeared in from of his eyes, sticking out from a white sleeveless blouse, and like a magnet, he was drawn to her. She stood near the desk, her hands moving around the table. He walked to her, tempting their individual personal spaces to collide and become one. His chest came dangerously close to her back and at every intake of breath, their bodies touched slightly, although they never made full contact, it was just a soft brush of white fabrics. From where he stood, he noticed small, almost imperceptible freckles adorning the ivory skin on her shoulders, a reward from the previous sunny days.

He was so immersed in the glow irradiating from her that he nearly missed her voice asking for attention. His eyes drove upwards to the soft smile upon her lips. He could only see half of her face from his position behind her body, but he read in that sincere smile that she was ready to let him in something good an intense.

"Place your hands here." He did as asked; his arms come around her waist, and inevitably brought their bodies closer.

She breathed deeply at the unexpected contact, but settled comfortably in his embrace after a while. "Can you feel it?" She asked, turning her head toward him just in time to see his pleased but nervous expression.

"Yes." He agreed after a gap of silence that seemed to stretch in time and highlight their current state.

"Don't rush it, Booth." His name once more upon her lips. It fell from them in a delicious fashion, quite uncharacteristic of her.

"Gently now." She advised, watching him closely as his hands worked.

"Are you asking me to go gently?" He whispered hotly in her ear, with the easy side grin appearing in his lips. However, he obliged to her request. Gently he went on, savoring the moment that was bound to not last forever, even though he would want to extend the experience as long as she dared.

"Of course, this sort of performance needs to be savored with gentleness. You said so a while ago." His words backfired at him. She had the most incredibly and extensive long-time memory span, he had acknowledged that by the time they started their unconventional partnership. Over the years he had taught her some of his values, his beliefs, only to have them thrown in his face down the line. More times than often, he would take offense in it.

"It was a different context, Bones." This time thought, he merely blushed.

She raised an eyebrow while inclining her head to have a better vision of his face. The blush was there, red as a cherry, as well as a fine sheet of sweat in his brow. "Have you ever tried this before?"

"No." He murmured and lowered his head in shame. Why was he embarrassed to admit his ignorance at an act as banal as it was? Maybe it was the fact that he was admitting lack of knowledge in front of a woman who seemed to know what to do in this kind of situation. Hadn't she affirmed to have done this many times before?

He didn't consider himself a puritan, but her question, loaded with irony, made him feel like one. His hands though, never stopped their movements.

A soft humming filled the room, and after a while, he dropped his hands to the side with a sensation of accomplishment swelling in his chest.

"And here I was," She went on with a final sigh. "Thinking that you were a man sufficiently open minded to try everything outside your usual routine." Her head dropped backwards, lightly resting on his shoulder.

"And I am, Bones. I'm just very consistent about my own preferences." The poor excuse came out of his lips before he could muster something more appealing.

"You shouldn't be embarrassed about it, rather be glad that I can share this with you." She turned in his hold; the feeling of déjà vu embraced her. He was no longer nervous; she could tell by the way his brow had lost its wrinkle between the eyes, and how his shoulders seemed more relaxed.

A smile of pure joy brightened her face. She was glad he had come with her and shared this unique experience in which she indulged from time to time.

She watched expectantly, as he reached for the small cup and brought it to his lips. For a moment, she saw hesitation in his eyes, but when a lazy smile of reassurance appeared behind the cup, she knew he trusted her in this.

"Humm…" He murmured, while closing his eyes to indulge in the strong scent around him. "This is great espresso, Bones." His smile grew wider and so did hers.

"I'm glad you like it, Booth." She said, watching the cup return to his lips to taste the dark liquid. She had taken the chance to present a new flavor to him, and his reaction had been far beyond the one expected. Filled with pride, she smiled kindly, and took the cup from his hands to drink the last remains of the brew. The liquid, hot and strong, filled her mouth with the well known Italian aroma and something else, his undeniable taste. Her mouth fell to the cup where his own had been a while ago, and she tasted him there, as strong as the dark liquid had been, in an indirect touch of lips.

From behind the cup, she smiled, and her lips lingered in the spot for longer than necessary, watching him watching her. After a while, his taste faded away and brought longing with it. Reluctantly, she placed the cup near the espresso machine she had bought, empathizing with its emptiness.

"Thank you." She heard him sigh softly while his arms came around her waist, this time taking the first step in becoming closer. His lips dropped a gentle kiss in her cheek, which conveyed more than thanking for the simple beverage.

"You're welcome." She whispered back, enjoying the mixed scents of coffee and his cologne in the kiss.

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Who wants coffee now, you dirty minds? :P  
I hope you enjoyed, and remember, feedback is great!  
Thank you for reading.


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